


What Happens in Shadows

by ConinDraconir



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Blood, Death, Demonic Possession, Psychological Torture, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-09-13 20:33:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9141202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConinDraconir/pseuds/ConinDraconir
Summary: This takes place between episodes 68 and 69 of Critical Role. If you are not there, then this work will contain massive spoilers.I decided to not go terribly dark with some of my descriptions, but this is not a happy fluff piece. Be warned.I originally had this posted on my tumblr, but I want to start consolidating all of my works on here.





	

Percival Fredrickstein Von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III, but everyone calls him Percy, stared death in the face, and this time he knew there was no escape. For years, he had travelled with Vox Machina, and for years he had purged his inner demons with their help, both his rage at the beings that destroyed his family and his need for vengeance to come from his own hand. He had forgotten one demon though. And this one was quite real, not some intangible idea or emotion. Its name was Orthax, and he had believed that after the battle with the Briarwoods he might never feel its evil presence again. How foolish.

 _Of course_ Orthax had survived the fight in the tunnel. Percy had been naïve in assuming that breaking the physical essence would even slow down this being comprised of revenge and evil. Not even destroying his brainchild, the Pepperbox, could remove Orthax’s fetid touch from this plane. _Not my brainchild,_ he thought, _Orthax gave me that idea after tasting my anger and resentment._ Not only had Orthax survived, it had found a new…friend.

Enter Dr. Anna Ripley. Percy’s one act of mercy in a life based on exacting vengeance on those who wronged him and destroyed his family. She had only been on his list in the first place for the damage she had inflicted on him as a child. When he found her in the dungeons of his home, Orthax had whispered sweet nothings about the numerous tortures Percy could give back to her, ways to make it ten times worse than what she did to him. Percy had ignored Orthax, squelching his dark desires as he had thought of how to use Ripley’s captivity to his advantage against the Briarwoods. And during a single moment of distraction, the cunning woman had escaped his grasp. She escaped Grog, for Sarenrae’s sake!

And now that brilliant, conniving woman stood before him again, dealing her own brand of vengeance in the form of a technology he thought was his own. He had walked directly into her trap, but that wasn’t what Percy was upset about. He had brought his friends into this mess, and now they were fighting for their lives…again. But this time it was different. They were hurt, wounded, and scattered, because his invention was taken and distributed to Ripley and her thugs. _How stupid I am, to think that I could keep this knowledge away from the world._ Percy lamented in his mind. _But there is one way to eliminate everything. Cass will destroy my journals and all the prototypes in my workshop. That means all that’s left are the ones here, and the knowledge that she and I carry._

With that chilling realization in the forefront of his head, Percy felt the wounds on his body. _I never knew how much pain my bullets inflicted. This is almost as bad as being under Ripley’s…scientific experimentation again._ From across the crater, he saw Ripley reappear. And then he realized the truth.

It wasn’t her pistol, or her guns. It wasn’t even his pistol or guns. This was all Orthax’s doing. If Orthax hadn’t spoken to Percy in his weak moments, Percy would have never made the Pepperbox. Without the Pepperbox, Percy would never have made Bad News. The technology of guns would not exist without Orthax’s involvement. Everything about today was because of that…that bastard. It tainted whatever possible goodness existed in the beings it possessed. Percy thought he was doing all of this for the right reasons, outside of his hatred for the 6 people that destroyed his family. Percy now knew, he was wrong. But this wasn’t Ripley’s fault, at all. She was caught in the same cycle of vengeance that he had been. She was as much a victim of Orthax as he had once been.

She squinted carefully as she took deadly aim. Between Ripley and him, the world would never be the same. He calmly stared at her, finding a small measure of peace, for the first time in a long time. “No matter what today…I forgive you. But I cannot let you leave.” He hastily reloaded, hoping to have enough time to do something good with this…weapon. These guns weren’t tools. They only had one use: to cause death. But maybe just this once, a few deaths could help this world.

He watched her point a glowing red finger in his direction. Suddenly, a small form shouted out, “Anna anna bo banna banana fanna fo fanna hey hi mo manna…Fuck you!” The glow faded from her finger as she angrily grunted, and then disappeared once again.

“Bless you, Scanlan,” Percy said softly with a smile, knowing that his small companion had saved his life yet again in their long journey. He waited carefully, knowing Dr. Ripley would reappear soon, within seconds.

And then there was something in his way. A cold, familiar presence, full of malice, dripping with the deceit he had poisoned Percy’s mind with. Orthax itself. Before Percy could react, his consciousness was stolen from him as a large claw slashed his chest. He felt oblivion claw into his brain, and his body thudded into the ground. _No. Not yet. My work isn’t done._ With that remaining thought, Percy felt his soul solidify inside of his body, preventing Orthax from fully ripping it free from his crumbling body.

He floated within the void of unconsciousness, hoping his friends at least could break Orthax’s body again. Dimly he heard “Another name off the list”, sound from within the darkness, and he saw a dot of red light appear. The dot touched him in the middle of the sternum, and he heard laughter echo in his mindscape.

Pain.

That was all he knew now. But he was stuck in this blackness, unable to leave. From all his talks with Pike, he was fairly certain this wasn’t how death was supposed to be. There wasn’t supposed to be pain in death. Pain was an affliction of the living.

Laughter surrounded him, and he suddenly found himself stretched out on a table, shackled to it hand and foot. A lantern on a chain dangled above him, bathing him in a small circle of light. A figure walked backwards into the sphere of light. Hardened leather boots, turned down at the calf. Leanly muscled legs in a dark cloth. Blue coattails from a long coat flutter in an unseen breeze. The shock of white hair catch the light last. And then laughing, the figure turns to face him. It was…himself. Except the eyes were pitch black, as if the pupils had expanded to absorb all the color. The smile was wrong too. There was no warmth in this smile. Only spite and scorn came from this face.

“Percy.” The voice of Orthax would have chilled the blood in Percy’s veins if he was alive. He knew now what happened. He was dead. And Orthax had him. He wasn’t possessed by this demon. He was brought to its’ home.

The smile stretched even farther on the facsimile of his face. “You’ve lost, Percy. Not only did you fail to kill my new host, you also failed to impart any wisdom to your friends! They might dismantle my new host, but it won’t matter in the end. I have my hooks in you again, and this time you have no escape. Ripley was never my goal, little Percy. It was _always_ you. And then through the control of your body, I can get your friends.” Orthax laughed again, and the circle of light quavered as Percy felt the weight of guilt press on him.

“Here, let’s see how they’re doing against the lovely Anna.” Orthax waved his hand, and a hazy image appeared in the air. Percy saw Anna Ripley contained within the pink sphere Scanlan had learned recently, looking shocked. He saw his body being held by Vex and Keyleth, thick black smoke drifting out from his eyes, mouth, and nose. The smoke drifted slowly around the two of them until it was outlining them, as it used to outline him when he fought the Briarwoods. Ripley looked to her left, where Scanlan and Grog were approaching menacingly. The smoke was now swirling up around their feet, hugging them like a lover until it covered them too. Ripley glanced right, and Vax spun a dagger in his hand. From his fingers lanced out tendrils of darkness, forming a claw reminiscent of Orthax’s corporeal form.

Orthax walked behind the bound Percy, and with a sharp jerk, latched both hands around Percy’s face, tugging the skin of his face. “Just watch, little Percy”, it whispered harshly with his voice, “This is my _favorite_ part.”

Percy now saw that all his friends except for Vex were gathered around the bubble that was around Ripley. _But is it containing her…or protecting her?_ Percy thought hastily, horror in his soul at how his friends looked. Grog had a feral snarl painted on his face, but that was to be expected from the raging goliath. The others all had sneers, and were lightly tapping their weapons along the surface of the bubble.

“Percy’s killing you right now,” Scanlan said to Ripley, readying his Mythcarver, “not us.” And then he dropped the sphere.

Vax’ildan rushed in first, taking his Keen dagger and slicing into Ripley’s shoulder, carving off her arm.

Pain.

Percy screamed, feeling the dagger rip through his muscles, tendons, and finally pop his bone out of socket.

Pain.

The small shadow surrounding Scanlan Shorthalt seemed to grow around his arm as it grabbed Ripley by her throat and pulled her down with surprising strength for his short size. With a grim smile on his face, he carved into Ripley’s forehead.

Pain.

Something burned on his forehead, and when he could look again, he forgot his pain in the sheer revulsion he felt burning in his gut. On her head in bloody lines, was his family crest. “Scanlan…” Percy whispered through his pain, “why?”

“Why?” Orthax asked incredulously. “Why it’s simple, my little Percy. By being around you, you have corrupted him, you have corrupted _them_ with your hatred. It didn’t go away because of their goodness. Their goodness left them because your hatred was too strong. Did you not see it? Every time you made Vex’alhia an arrow that caused destruction. Every time you talked to Keyleth about how her morals were too stringent and that she couldn’t expect anyone to adhere to them. Every time that you fought with Grog and thought him too simple to understand your high-minded way of looking at the world. Every time that you told Vax’ildan not to trust you. Don’t you see, my wonderful Percival Fredrickstein von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III? _Everything_ you did pulled them into darkness. It is your fault that they will fall to the darkness that festered inside of you. You gave me such a wonderfully nurturing environment, a body in which I could spread my influence. But what you didn’t know was that the more you used me, the more chances I had to touch your friends with my power as well. And now they’ll be mine, just as you were mine.”

Percy screamed. This was not a scream of anger and rage. This was a scream of impotence, of betrayal…of fear. He knew that Orthax was lying, it had to be lying. And yet…he couldn’t say those words out loud. His logic failed him for the first time in his life, and he couldn’t deny the demon’s words. Oh Sarenrae, pl…

Pain.

“Now, now, little one. Do not invoke that name here, even in your thoughts.”

Percy felt his throat constrict, as if someone had wrapped a noose around it. He looked back to the image of Vox Machina slaughtering Anna Ripley. Keyleth had tears of shadow and blood slowly draining from her eyes. And on her face was a mask of grim determination, promising death. She crooked a finger, and the vine that had burst from the ground and wrapped around Ripley’s neck. Percy could feel the air constrict in his throat, and he saw Grog step forward from behind Scanlan. His greataxe swung easily in his mighty fist, and in an incredibly quick strike, it tore through her abdomen, scraping off her spine.

Pain.

Percy was almost blinded by tears at this point, the pain more intense than anything he had ever imagined. Because this agony went beyond physical damage. He had failed. After killing the Briarwoods and banishing the shadow of Orthax, he had thought it was all over. With the Pepperbox gone, freedom from his driving rage had seemed possible. How foolish.

Pain.

He was mad with the pain, losing his feeble grasp of sanity at this point. He welcomed the demise that was coming, welcomed the end to all this pain. He managed to look up one final time, watching Vex’alhia pull back an arrow through Fenthris, tears staining her face and her mouth set in hateful determination.

_Sweet, caring Vex’alhia. Please. Don’t._

And then pain exploded again.

A shaft of darkness rippled from his chest as he watched an arrow pierce Ripley’s heart. He felt everything crumbling down as he started to fade into oblivion. “Vex’alhia, I’m sorry my lo-"

And then even the pain faded as her second arrow took Ripley in the mouth. And he knew no more.

* * *

 

He awoke some time later, still bound. But the pain was gone. He was able to twist his head and stare down at his wo….

There were no wounds. His body was whole and unblemished, save the wounds inflicted by Ripley and Orthax. He still has his arm. He wasn’t cut open.

“You’re awake! Wonderful.” a grating voice whispered behind him.

Percy tensed, feeling a long claw rake gently across the back of his neck. The demon made of shadow and vengeance walked slowly into his sight, its’ eyes smoldering a dull red. Even with all the terror he associated with this demon, Percy could feel its enjoyment and contentment at his confusion.

“You didn’t think I would let you die so easily, did you? No, my little de Rolo. I have stopped your soul from leaving to a higher plane. When you were younger, that you would do whatever it took to get your vengeance. Well, the Briarwoods are dead now! Kerrion Stonefell is dead! Professor Anders is dead! And now Doctor Ripley, bless her black heart, is dead too! Your list is complete.”

Orthax straddled Percy as he dangled from the chains, resting its’ long claws along his ribs as it lowered its’ face towards his own. “And now you owe me, Percival-” It plunged one claw through his ribs, puncturing a lung. Percy tried to gasp but couldn’t draw in the air. “Fredrickstein-” Another claw, and this time he moaned in pain. “Von Musel-” Another. “Klossowski-” Claw. “de Rolo-” Puncture. “The third.” A final claw this time, but not his ribs. This one went up from under his jaw, and pierced into his brain behind his eyes.

Pain. “You owe me so much.” He heard as he lost feeling and thoughts. And then merciful darkness again.

* * *

 

Percy awoke in darkness. Like he had for the past three weeks. He was always greeted with darkness immediately upon waking. Orthax hadn’t spoken to him in that time, not even once to gloat again at having captured Percy. What Orthax _had_ done was find a way to heal Percy’s body ( _My soul?_ ) after every torture. He had tried questioning the demon about it…once. The torture that day had been the worst so far, aside from his strange affinity with Ripley as she was killed.

And then as it was every new day, he felt the cold chill on his neck as shadowy black claws traced lines across his throat. “Welcome back, young Percy. Would you like to know a secret?”

Percy kept his silence. He started to feel impotent anger, but did his best to squelch it when he saw the shadow begin to grow and swell, looking more powerful with each instance. “Mmm. Such a sweet breakfast, the bitter helpless rage. Almost like a tart, or an omelet. Please, dear young Percy, feed me more.”

And with that, the building anger in Percy’s breast faded to sorrow. “No, no. None of that now. I haven’t even told you the secret yet!”

Orthax released his throat, and formed what seemed to be a chair made of shadows. He sat in it, letting his simmering coal eyes linger across Percy’s body like a lecher in a whorehouse. “You see Percival, you’ve been gone too long for your tiny cleric to bring you back. She isn’t strong enough to bring you back beyond 10 days of death. And even if she was, I’ve hidden your soul away from her ethereal grasp. You are beyond help. You are beyond hope. You. Are. Mine.”

Orthax laughed, the sound echoing everywhere. “And that, little Percy, will be our little secret.”

With that, he faded, dissolving into blackness. Percy knew that those words would cause more pain than anything Orthax could carve into his skin today.

* * *

 

Percival awoke, in darkness. Six months now. Orthax was in front of him before he opened his eyes. “I’ve learned something new, little Percy. You see, I underestimated the bond you share with your friends.”

Hope. For the briefest instant, Orthax had sounded worried. That gave Percy hope.

“What I mean to say is, you’re still connected to them in a way. Whenever they think of you, they somehow touch a piece of your soul, which is still under my control. So I devised a new way to hurt you with this.

You see, when they killed Anna Ripley, you felt it. You felt it because they had rage festering and boiling over because of your death. And they were connected to you by their thoughts of you. And I found a way to make you relive that experience. Whenever they think about you during a fight in their lifetimes…you’ll feel the pain they inflict. Now, some of them have probably moved on and will only rarely think of you in the middle of a fight for their lives.”

Orthax smiled cruelly, strangely white teeth shining out of a swirling mass of shade. “But that lovely little half-elf, Vex’alhia. She won’t be able to ever get you out of her mind. She made the mistake of all mortals. Can you guess what that is?”

The small fragment of hope that had started to nurture in Percy’s heart…withered and died.

“No answer? None at all? Well, I suppose I’ll let you ponder on it for a while. Just know…she’ll always have you on her mind. Every time she fires an arrow. Every time that wonderful beast of hers tears into a horde of monsters. You will feel the pain of whatever they fight. Just imagine how sweet it will be on the next three dragons? She hates dragons, as you well know. I’ll even make you a promise. When they fight the dragons…I won’t even touch you. I’ll let you watch, and feel the pain with every inch of your body. Won’t that be nice?”

With a grating laugh, Orthax reached forward, and slowly sank its claws into Percy’s heart.

Pain. Then darkness.

* * *

 

He awoke. 2 years, he knew. Pain awaited him, he also knew.

The moment he had the realization, a thick claw of inky blackness pierced his throat. Pain, and then he knew no more.

* * *

 

He awoke. 250 weeks. Today, Orthax would peel off his skin, and do its best to keep his skin from ripping. It had promised.

With a sharp burst of pain in Percy’s left hand, Orthax kept that promise.

* * *

 

Again, darkness. It was now…it was now…

 _Oh Sarenrae. How long have I been trapped here now?_ Percy was too far gone into his madness to fully care. But the fact that his memory was finally starting to fail him…that was able to get a small vestige of response from Percy.

“You’re awake again. Welcome back…old Percy.”

Orthax walked from behind the chains, holding a mirror. It placed the mirror in front of Percy, and he was staring at a stranger. Wrinkles covered the face, creating deep furrows. Liver spots adorned the skin, which hung loose. The hair, while still white, looked thin and horribly stringy. The glasses had rusted, and the teeth had gone infected a long time ago.

“Happy 100th birthday, Percival. I even brought you a gift today, to mark the special occasion.”

At this point, Percy didn’t even have the strength to react. He was so weak…so old…so tired.

Orthax pulled out what looked like a skullcap of darkness. It placed the cap on Percy’s head. He only felt the slightest pressure as dark hooks latched into his skull.

“Now you will never get rid of me again, Percival. If anyone ever brings your soul back…let’s just say that it won’t be you that goes back. With that enchantment, I’ll be the one that goes back into your body…and you’ll be stuck here.”

Before Orthax could continue, the entire world of darkness shook. It flinched, looking about wildly. A massive hand came from the darkness, wrapping around the form of the demon. This hand was pale skinned, with small vines interlaced in the fingers. With a harsh closing of the hand, Orthax was scattered into a thousand pieces.

Immediately, Percy fell from the chains, through the black room, and into a stream of light. For the first time in so long, Percy saw colors everywhere. The pain was gone; the weariness was gone. Percy felt…at peace. He could finally let go and move on.

“It’s yours.” The shock of hearing Vex’s voice stopped his soul where it was. He didn’t know where she was…but gods did her voice stun him. After being surrounded by darkness and rage for so long, her voice alone was nectar. He felt renewed, and he felt the age slough off, felt his body restore slightly. Vex’alhia. He couldn’t go now. He hadn’t apologized for the pain he caused her. She should still be alive after 100 years from her half-elf blood. She had a few centuries, surely. He needed to tell her…well, a lot of things. But one thing certainly. He truly would be dead if he couldn’t do this for her.

But how could he get back? Where would he even come back?

A flood of warmth surrounded him, like the sun on a cloudless day. It felt like a hug. It felt like…Pike. He was anchored somehow, prevented from going further down the stream of death.

From around his neck, the raven skull appeared on its leather cord. It pulled up and over his head, turning until the empty sockets stared into his eyes. The skull slowly enlarged, becoming the size of his own skull, then twice the size, continuing to grow for many moments. Feathers sprouted along the bone, spreading into the shape of the bird itself. A large talon wrapped ever so gently around his midsection, and he was pulled out of the stream and back into life.

* * *

 

A small hand was smacking him in the face. Percy grabbed it and smacked Scanlan ( _who else would it be?_ ) before coughing and opening his eyes. Colors swam as he heard Keyleth say “His reflexes are working, his reflexes are working great.”

The next few moments were a blur as his eyes adjusted slowly and Vox Machina ( _these wonderful beings who risked so much with me…for me. I will never be able to repay them for their kindness_ ) filled him in on the death of Anna Ripley.

“Percy, you were gone for…quite a while,” Keyleth said hesitantly.

“How long?” he asked, slowly massaging his face with his hands.

“A day, 24 hours.” Keyleth didn’t look happy at this news.

His eyebrows climbed his forehead. “Only a day?” Percy felt shock thunder through him. It was impossible. He was gone…far longer than that surely.

“How long did it feel?”

“I…don’t know,” Percy said, still taking in all his friends and their concern.

“What do you remember?” Grog, standing in the corner, looked…subdued. Now there was something one didn’t see every day.

And then all the memories exploded in his mind. Forgiving Ripley…and then living her death. Dying. Dying again. Agony and pain. Dark laughter each time he screamed. An undying rage each time he didn’t. Being flayed. Having his teeth torn out and then being forced to swallow them until he choked on his blood. Orthax, firing a Pepperbox, and then using the red hot barrel to brand the names into Percy’s flesh, until every inch…every inch of skin on his body bore a name from his former list. Hundreds, thousands of different tortures to please the perverted desires of the demon of vengeance. He wasn’t strong enough to tell them now. Maybe not ever. But if he ever was, they would be here.

“Nothing that is worth repeating.” His friends, no, his family, would always be here. He would make sure of it.


End file.
